


Special

by vassalady



Category: Superman (Comics)
Genre: Depression, Ficlet, Gen, Self-Esteem Issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 17:09:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5673916
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vassalady/pseuds/vassalady
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lois Lane knows she isn't really special.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special

Lois had this knack. When she was a kid, it was just luck. When she was a teenager, it was a woman’s intuition. Now, everyone called it her reporter’s nose.

She tended to be around where there were stories to be had. Or, maybe, she was just observant enough to spot the stories that were there. Either way, it was this chance of regularly being in the right place at the right time that helped her get more than a few exclusive scoops.

She used to think that Superman was one of these. At the time, she hadn’t known that Clark was Superman, of course, and she long suspected that there was some connection long before Clark finally told her, the dummy. 

No, she understood why he didn’t tell her, but it didn’t make her any less annoyed at the time.

The thing was though, she had often believed that this knack of hers made her special. But she started questioning this knack. Oh, she’d never believed it was anything real; she knew, ultimately, that it was a combination of luck and skill. But when she pretended to believe, it made her feel special.

The truth was, and Lois knew this well, there was nothing special about Lois Lane. She was a dedicated worker, sure, but she’d had to try her whole life. She’d worked for her spot as a top reporter at the _Daily Planet_ , and she worked even harder now. She couldn’t spell worth a damn, and her sentences ran too long and rambly, but she was working on that.

But there wasn’t really anything special about Lois.

Maybe someone would say that dating Superman made her special, but that was about him, not her. Lucky, maybe, but not something innately special about her. Besides, she was dating Clark publicly. Superman was officially an unattached bachelor. 

Usually, it didn’t bother Lois. Sometimes, however, she’d wonder and wish.

She confided in Cat, once. They had caught lunch together, taking a welcome breather from the testosterone that filled the bullpen when Cat still worked at the _Planet_. 

“Of course you’re special!” Cat said. She snagged one of Lois’s donut holes, despite having said they were an ill-advised food choice only moments earlier. “You always know where a story is, you’re the best damn reporter I know, and you’ve got dibs on Superman.”

“But that’s-” Not normally at a loss for words when it came to reporting, Lois was shit at examining her own feelings. “I don’t know. Things just don’t… seem right.”

Cat looked at Lois for a long moment. “I can’t tell you how you feel or should feel. But if you need to talk to someone, I know a few people to recommend. No shame in taking something if you need it, either.”

Lois didn’t know what to say, so she ate another donut hole instead.

She didn’t bring it up with anyone else.

Objectively, Cat’s advice was good; Lois didn’t think she was depressed, however. She was fine. She just suffered from, well, Not-Special Syndrome, or whatever, and who didn’t in a world of metahumans? 

Except, maybe she had felt this way prior to all the heroes and villains. Maybe she had felt that way when people called her knack a woman’s intuition. Maybe even before then?

But that was a normal, human emotion, right? Hell, lots of people went out of their way to try to be special when they weren’t, when they were just average people suffering under the weight of mediocrity and… And…

And this was why Lois hated introspection. 

“Lois? You okay?”

The light and Clark’s voice surprised her. She turned from the bathroom mirror to see Clark there, shirtless and hair ruffled and as perfect as always.

“Just fine, Smallville,” she said with a shrug and an easy grin.

“You were in the bathroom in the dark.”

“Didn’t want to wake you.”

Clark frowned at her. Of course that wouldn’t matter. A leaf falling three blocks away would have had the ability to wake Clark if he hadn’t spent so long on blocking everything out.

Thankfully, he didn’t push it. He just looked at her with that kind, adoring face of his and said, “I’m heading back to bed. Don’t worry about the lights. When you’re ready.”

“Good night, Clark.”

“Night, Lois.”

Alone again, Lois splashed some water on her face. She wasn’t doing any good thinking like this. She was fine, absolutely fine. So what if she wasn’t special?

So what if she hadn’t wanted to look at herself?

Turning off the light, she left the bathroom and moved toward the bed. She slipped under the covers. Clark turned over to wrap an arm over her. It was heavy, but comforting.

Lois Lane wasn’t one to cry, not when it didn’t matter. She wasn’t crying now.

She knew there was no hiding the tears she blinked away from Clark either. Again, though, he didn’t say anything, just kept her in his grasp.

Lois wasn’t special like Clark. She wasn’t special in any way.

But who needed to be special anyway? Special was overrated. All Lois needed to do was be a good reporter, and she was that.

Most of the time anyway. But that was something to dwell on another night.


End file.
